


Swear on our Name

by SwampSpirit



Category: One Piece
Genre: 'hey what if I made pronouns as hard for myself as possible', Gen, Gender: Swords, Grief, Kuina Lives, Major Character Death is all in flashback, Multiple Pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampSpirit/pseuds/SwampSpirit
Summary: When they got to the restaurant, Zoro finally removed his bandana, ruffling his black hair before digging into his food.Luffy still hadn’t seen him smile, even now that he was eating, but he really wanted to.“Why do you have three swords if you only fight with one? Do you break a lot of swords?”“What? No. I’m holding onto these for a friend.”
Relationships: Kuina & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Kuina & Roronoa Zoro, Kuina & Tashigi (One Piece)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally fell into the void that is One Piece. Here's my contribution.  
> Starting off with a Luffy PoV was more daunting than I expected. I find him really easy to write dialogue for, but really daunting to write his internal monologue.

A lot of people told Luffy he had no self control, which he thought was pretty unfair.

The ocean was right there! Gold Roger’s treasure was out there! Ace was out there! Best of all, his crew was out there! And still, he was patient and waited for his turn to claim his throne.

Sometimes, somebody back in town would say he’d never get a wife if he didn’t chew with his mouth closed (or take more baths or get a proper job or something). And he’d tell them he didn’t want a wife, he wanted a crew.

When he heard they’d caught a demon in a human form on Shell Island, a fearsome swordsman who hunted pirates, something in his gut locked on.

And so, as he sailed for Shell Island, the excitement was overwhelming. Every time people talked about Pirate Hunter Zoro, Luffy got this excited flutter. He couldn’t just follow rumors, not for something important as this, but his heart was like a compass. Pirate Hunter Zoro was going to join his crew, he could feel it.

Not that he’d let him on if he was some jerk, but his gut didn’t usually lie like that. Besides, how cool would it be to have a swordsman? A demon swordsman! Coby seemed horrified by the idea, but that was fine. 

He scrambled up the wall, trying to get a good look.

He was lankier than Luffy expected, but definitely cool. He was slouched over in the hot sun, so all Luffy could see was the bandana, but it was a cool slouch. It pissed him off to see his possible future crew tied up like that though. What was the point of leaving somebody out like a piece of wet laundry?

Well, at least that was easier to take care of than if they’d had him manacled in some basement!

“So that’s him! Hmm… I guess it wouldn’t be hard to just untie the ropes.”

Coby started screaming about something, but Luffy was focused on the swordsman. The swordsman looked up, eyes sharp, face caked in blood.

“Kid, untie me or leave. It’s not a damn zoo exhibit.”

Luffy grinned. Zoro had good eyes. His crew needed that kind of fire.

“Well, which would you prefer I do?” he asked, and the swordsman’s eyes narrowed. 

“You think I’m tied here for fun? If you untie me, I can pay you.”

Luffy huffed. What kind of captain decided who lived or died based on money? 

“Don’t do it, Luffy. As soon as you untie him, he’ll kill you!”

Luffy laughed the idea off, but the swordsman’s response was cut off by a tiny girl climbing over the wall.

As the scene played out, Luffy’s grin grew. He watched the swordsman try to scare the girl back to safety, then watched him stuff the riceballs seasoned with sugar and mud into his mouth.

“Tell her I liked them,” he said, as he tried not to vomit them up.

Zoro wasn’t a demon, he was just _really cool_. But then again, people said Luffy’s rubber powers were demonic, and they called Ace a demon, so maybe people always called cool things demonic.

He shared the theory with Coby, who tried to argue the marines were cool, and Luffy didn’t tell him that the marines were actually pretty lame because you didn’t step on somebody’s dream, even if you didn’t get it.

Anyway, hearing why Zoro was tied up confirmed it. Zoro was his crew now, and he wasn’t letting some stupid marine kill his swordsman.

“I’ll untie you if you join my pirate crew.”

“Can’t. I don’t kill civilians.”

Luffy rolled his eyes. How did somebody who collected bounties know so little about pirates?

“Neither do I! Being a pirate doesn’t mean you hurt people, it just means you’re free to do what you want. If you don’t want to hurt people- well, okay, I already beat up some pirates, but you do that too! And a marine, but he was going to execute you when he said he wouldn’t.”

Luffy saw some genuine anger in the swordman’s expression.

“If I joined you, _if,_ ” Zoro said, probably noticing Luffy’s growing smile, “and you ever became the type to hurt people for fun, I’d turn you in for bounty myself.”

“Sounds fair to me! So you’re joining, right?” 

“I have two other conditions,” the bounty hunter told him. It was kinda funny, trying to bargain when he couldn’t move, but Luffy was happy to bargain. Somebody who ate the gum-gum fruit shouldn’t be inflexible, especially with crew! “I have swords and a bag in the base. I’ll need those back.”

“Okay!” Luffy took off to get them. He could deal with the second thing later.

When they got to the restaurant, Zoro finally removed his bandana, ruffling his black hair before digging into his food.

Luffy still hadn’t seen him smile, even now that he was eating, but he really wanted to.

“Why do you have three swords if you only fight with one? Do you break a lot of swords?”

“What? No. I’m holding onto these for a friend.”

“Okay.” Curiosity sated, Luffy got back eating until he remembered his other question. “Hey, what was the other condition? For you to join my crew?”

“I’m out on the sea for my own reason, and I can’t sail with a weak captain.” 

“You saw me fight!”

“Yeah, I saw you fight a wall of muscle who thinks a bladed prosthetic is a battle tactic. If you think that’s strength, you’ll only hold me back.”

“You-” Coby sputtered.

Gosh, Luffy was feeling better and better about trusting his gut. 

“Okay, then let’s fight!” he said. Zoro had the look of somebody who needed a good fight. Luffy knew the feeling.

And for the first time, he saw the swordsman smile. It was sharp and vicious and absolutely lovely.

“What is wrong with you people!” asked Coby, and Luffy laughed.

The first time Zoro beat Kuina in a fight, she was fourteen, and she’d handled it with grace. It was fight 7,621, after all, and she’d had years to steel herself for this moment.

“Good fight,” she’d said. Zoro’d had the good sense not to gloat. He’d stood still, holding back tears, and nodded.

“Good fight.”

Then she’d cried in her room for an hour, but it didn’t count if nobody saw it.

At the time, it felt like a switch had been flipped, like he’d finally surpassed her and she’d never win again.

Thankfully she won fight 7,622. And the next 48 fights. Over the following months, his victories got closer together, but they didn’t overtake hers.

In a way, having that ever present fear of loss off her back was a relief. She no longer trained with the creeping fear of the moment she was overtaken. She’d held her own against plenty of adult men, why would Zoro becoming an adult be some lone, earth shattering event?

Instead she trained with nervous excitement, always waiting for their next match. He seemed to have more fun too, no longer humiliated after every defeat. Without the looming dread that had plagued them both, they took more risks. She learned that she was almost as clumsy with two swords as he was vulnerable with one. 

It was fun.

That didn’t mean it was always friendly. They both had their pride, and they both said plenty of things they regretted over the years. Some of their duels started with yelling instead of bowing, and a few times they didn’t bother with swords, rolling in the grass and throwing punches and probably giving a bad name to the honor of swordsmen everywhere.

When she was sixteen, they tried to kiss, still both sweaty and winded from training. It seemed like what everyone expected, but she was relieved that he had the same opinion. Kissing was a waste of time you could spend fighting. That was why they worked. Neither of them expected the other to sit around for tea after a match or say the right thing, which was good, because Kuina was pretty sure neither of them had ever said the right thing before in their lives. They expected a good fight, an opponent who could match their passion. 

It was so simple, there was no good word for it. Friend, rivals, soulmates of the most violent kind, none of it was right. She never felt happier than when they fought. He was irreplaceable.

Which was why she couldn’t forgive him for dying.

Before they’d met, with no real challengers, she’d been arrogant. She’d felt like nobody could challenge her, and she’d taken pride in that.

Now Kuina was bored. Mihawk was a distant goal, but there was no thrill of throwing herself into a fight she wasn’t ready for. She was carrying two dreams now. There was just a gaping void beside her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah dang. I marked this as one chapter. Anyway, here's chapter 2.  
> Lots more Zoro and Kuina in this one!

It was barely an island. It was a pile of rocks with some moss, but that made an interesting battleground, if nothing else. If you lost your footing, you’d lose the fight, and every step would require concentration.

Zoro slipped off his shoes for better grip, heart racing a bit. He hadn’t had a proper challenge since Zoro, the real Zoro, died, and Luffy better not disappoint him.

“You’re smiling again,” the boy said, his own grin taking up half his face. Zoro hadn’t even noticed that he’d started smiling, but the expression felt unfamiliar.

“Are we going to talk all day, or are we gonna fight?” he said, pulling out a sword, and Luffy laughed like they were playing and, fuck, he’d missed this.

Zoro might not have been the strongest, but he was fast. Fighting Luffy was a test of every ounce of calculation and speed he’d perfected. Luffy wasn’t quite as fast, but he had reach of a bullet, with a lot less need for control. It was like trying to dodge two thrashing snakes. Luffy wasn’t holding back either. The strike to Zoro’s ribs nearly cracked something.

He hadn’t been this happy in years.

When Zoro, the real Zoro, died, the sun had been snuffed out. For almost ten years, they’d been each other’s center, the goal to beat and the whetstone to hone their skills against. They’d understood each other, and without him, the entire world had gone to shit. He’d wanted to throw himself against impossible odds and die like a hero, but he held back. He would not dishonor their promise on a glorified suicide.

But the problem was, when you eliminated the two or three big leaguers he had no chance against, it was all trash. He racked up cash, built a reputation, practiced every spare moment, but who wanted to spend years playing a game they knew they could win? He could feel himself stagnate with no real opponent to force him to improve or innovate.

Now, bare feet sliding over damp moss and scraping over salty stone, ribs bruised, breathing starting to come in ragged gasps, the core of the sun reignited.

He didn’t hold back. He might actually die if he did. Luffy was relentless, clearly loving the fight just as much as him.

There was a familiar feeling of his sword hitting home, sliding through something, but Luffy didn’t yield, so Zoro didn’t either. There was no time to slow down.

Until he saw the curl of pink nestled in the green moss.

A finger.

Zoro sheathed the Wado Ichichimonji immediately. It took Luffy a moment to realize the fight was over, and Zoro focused on dodging until the storm of punches stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked, head tilting like a confused puppy. Blood was streaming from where one of his pinkies had been sliced away. 

“Captain, your hand...”

“Captain? So you’ll join my crew then?! Yes!!!”

He hadn’t meant to call him captain, but it was true. Luffy was right. It had been inevitable since they met. But Zoro had pushed, had wanted a fight, had forgotten you couldn’t clash with fists like you could with swords.

And here Luffy was just grinning. Well, he couldn’t leave this dumbass alone now. He’d be dead in a week.

“Let me bandage that before you bleed out or it gets infected. Come here.” He gestured his new captain into the boat and pulled supplies out of his bag.

“Wait, are you a doctor too? Cool!”

“Sorry captain. I just know enough to keep wounds clean. You’re going to need a proper doctor.” He liked saying it. Captain. Otherwise, it could be another thing that’s hard to name. “You should have told me you were hurt.”

“But… you needed a good fight! It’s just a finger. I bet I can even fix it!”

Luffy grabbed the stump and started to stretch it.

“No! Do not do that!” Zoro yelped. Luffy pouted, letting the skin snap back into position.

Zoro sighed, still a bit shaky with adrenaline.

“This is going to be my life now.”

“Yup!” said his captain.

The East Blue was the worst.

In the North Blue, Anda had plenty of good opponents, but now he was stuck on some stupid little island in the middle of nowhere.

He was the best in his village, but this competition was every village's best students from the nearest four islands. Hopefully there’d be some real competition, but Anda wasn’t about to get his hopes up.

A few people glanced when he came in, but nobody outside his own dojo paid him much mind. That was fine. They hadn’t seen him fight yet. It did, however, make it more noticeable how the room froze when two other students walked in.

He had the immediate feeling the boy might be serious competition. He had a wide, cocky grin, but his muscles said he might be able to back up the swagger. The girl at his side was his opposite. She was eerily calm, and surveyed the room with cold eyes.

Then, the boy’s green hair bent over to whisper something in her ear and she laughed, warm as anything, and punched him in the arm.

“Don’t tell me that guy brought his girlfriend,” Anda muttered.

“No,” Regehr said. He was the other competitor from Anda’s dojo, though he’d never beat Anda in a fight. “That’s Zoro and Kuina. She’s in the competition too.”

“Wait, the girls are in the same competition? They don’t have their own ranking?”

Regehr’s shoulders slumped.

“I wish. There’s only like three girls, so they put them in our league.” He shook his head. “So we have to fight Zoro  _ and _ Kuina. It’s horrible.”

Ande looked around for the two other girls. They stood a few feet away, both staring at the corner where Zoro and Kuina were talking with matching frowns.

“What, are they jealous? He’s not that good looking.”

One of the girls, pink hair tied in ponytails, turned to him with a huff.

“Nothing to be jealous of. Zoro’s good with swords, but he’s dumb as a brick. I just thought it would be cool to be friends with her, but she only talks to Zoro. She thinks she’s too good for everyone else.”

“Well I’m jealous. Have you seen his arms?” the other girl says with a sigh, then scowled. “Everybody knows he’s gonna marry Kuina and take over her dad’s dojo. I bet if she didn’t have a dojo, he’d give other girls a chance.”

“You think he’s thinking about marriage?” Ponytails asked. “Neither of them think about anything but swords.”

“You can think about swords and girls,” Anda said. “It’s not mutually exclusive.”

“You’ll see what I mean.”

He saw Zoro fight first. Anda had been winning all his fights easily, but nobody was staring at him with the awe they watched Zoro and Kuina with. He watched intently, waiting to see what was so amazing about him.

The match was an absolute massacre. Zoro’s strength was incredible, and he struck with enough force that his opponent couldn’t collect himself. Anda looked forward to going against him and seeing if he had strategy to match that strength.

Kuina was kinda depressing to watch. She started every fight with the same move, one quick strike to the hand.

Worse, it worked every time. Each battle, she’d take one quick strike to the hand, they’d drop their bokken, and the match would be over. Anda would be harder on her for being predictable, but even predictable, not a single person could get past it. Pathetic.

It was the semi-finals before Anda got to face either of them. 

He stood across from Kuina. She was good at one move. He just had to block her opening, and the fight would be his.When the sword darted for his hand, he brought his hand above his head, blocking her hit.

Before he could gloat, before he could think, her bokken was on the other side, giving a neat tap to his ribs.

“Kuina’s win.”

It wasn’t his last fight, but it meant he wouldn’t take first. He’d lost before, but he hadn’t been planning to lose here. And if everyone back home found out he’d lost to a girl, he’d never hear the end of it, even if that girl was damn fast.

He stumbled through his last two fights of the day, barely pulling a win, but his loss seemed to have actually gained him some attention.

“Whoa, you blocked Kuina!”

People kept slapping his shoulder and complimenting him like she hadn’t taken him down in two hits. Meanwhile, Kuina and Zoro whittled down the other finalists until nobody else was left.

When the final match of the day came, Anda watched intently. What were these two made of when their tricks didn’t work?

It was different from their other fights. Kuina was still calm, but she felt… more dangerous somehow, and Zoro’s confidence had condensed to viciousness. Honestly, if those looks had been pointed at him, Anda might have frozen up.

Kuina and Zoro bowed. Her face was still impassive, but he had a feral grin.

“This year’s win is mine.”

“Talk is cheap,” she said. “Let’s go.”

When the judge blew the whistle, neither of them moved.

Anda had seen flocks of birds turn in one fluid motion and wondered how they knew the right second to turn. The start of the fight left him with the same feeling. One second, they were both perfectly still, the next they were flying. She twisted to the side to dodge his opening charge, and he spun midair to target her.

Anda had to watch the fights in broad movements. He couldn’t keep up with the strikes. Zoro was a force of nature, brute force backed up with speed and skill, but Kuina deflected each hit with perfect calculation.

Anda had grown up on a peaceful cove. The first time he had seen the open sea, it had stunned him. He’d never known how vicious the sea was, how endless it was, how breathtakingly beautiful. He had felt so small, and he didn’t know if it was fear or awe that froze them.

Watching them fight, even in a controlled match, even with wooden swords, felt like seeing the open sea for the first time. His swordplay wasn’t a worse version of this. Even trying to compare them felt like comparing a baby’s babbles to an opera. He was so painfully, inspiringly out of his depth, and suddenly he could believe that these were two people who only thought about fighting. 

The fight was decided as quickly as it started. Zoro had managed to push Kuina almost to the edge of the arena when she was suddenly behind him, blade to his neck. She smiled sharp as him.

“Your loss this year, Zoro.”

“Whatever. I’m still thirty ahead for the year.”

The judge cleared his throat.

“Kuina stepped out of bounds. Zoro is the winner.”

That… Anda’d had trouble watching the fight, but he didn’t think he would have missed that.

The room was silent, and it took Anda a moment to realize what was happening. Kuina’s hands were balled into fists, and Zoro wasn’t smiling anymore. Most of the dojo looked uncomfortable too, but even if it was a bad call, it wasn’t their place to speak up.Kuina could argue, but she’d probably just start sounding like a sore loser.

“That’s bullshit!” Zoro snarled.

“Excuse me?” the judge asked, looking a bit startled.

“She won and you know it! You think I’m so fragile I can’t take a loss, or can you not handle a girl taking the trophy?”

“Her foot-”

“Was in bounds. And you’re cowering because you know it. Well take the prize and shove it up your ass. Kuina?”

“Let’s go,” she said coolly.

Anda watched them leave, only tuning back in to the judge waved to get his attention.

“Well… I guess this is yours.”

“I got third.”

“Well, first and second have just left, so it’s yours now.”

Anda took the small, bronze sword with discomfort. He didn’t feel like he’d won. He didn’t feel like he’d taken third. 

Listlessly, he walked to a nearby restaurant, and nearly walked out when he saw Zoro and Kuina sharing hotpot. Even that was a duel, a quick war of chopsticks for the best pieces of beef or mushroom. But he’d already ordered. It would have looked weird to walk out.

Unfortunately, neither of them were quiet over their food.

“-still pissed. Wanna beat the crap out of that judge.”

“You didn’t need to get so dramatic,” Kuina said, stealing a piece of meat Zoro’d had halfway to his mouth. “I’m used to it.”

“Well I’m fed up with it. There’s no challenge left on this bullshit island anyways. The only competition around here is you.”

“So?”

Anda had to admit, her implicit agreement there was no competition here stung a bit, but she… wasn’t wrong.

“So it’s time for us to leave. We’ve talked about getting out of here for years. And if we travel together, we won’t get out of practice while we travel.”

“And money?”

Zoro shrugged.

“Collect bounties or something. We can figure it out.”

Kuina stared at him, eyebrow raised skeptically. Then, to Anda’s amazement, started to laugh, giggles, then huge laughs until her head was on the table. She looked up at Zoro, who was taking the chance to fish the rest of the meat out of their hotpot, with a grin.

“My dad’s going to be so mad.”

“Then we don’t tell him until we reach the next island.”

They got quieter as they started to plan, but Anda could still hear how flimsy that plan was. A rowboat, 1000 beri, and, as far as Anda could tell, an outdated map and about ten brain cells between them. Yet he had zero doubt they could do it.

As they walked out, Anda sank down in his seat, trying to hide, but Zoro clapped his shoulder.

“Well, you’re best on the island now,” Zoro tells him with a grin. “Don’t be embarrassed that you couldn’t keep up. We’re going to be the best in the world.”

“The best? Which one of you?”

Both of them gestured at their own chest.

“Me, obviously.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday, so here's a long one.  
> Later parts of this chapter get into Some Gender Stuff with a lot of characters not really knowing how to respond to it, so if that seems like it'll bother you stop at "His current fashion was more traditional than he’d intended."  
> Mentions of transphobia and self-surgery threats

“I still can’t believe we sold the boat,” Zoro grumbled. They sat on the deck of a merchant ship, having taken the only three bounties worth anything on the last island.

“Traveling on our own boat would have been great. If my travelling companion knew how to navigate,” Kuina said, glaring.

“I can navigate!”

“You literally can’t! At least I can read a compass. Every time I went to sleep, I was afraid I’d wake up and you’d have rowed us into the North Blue somehow.”

“Well- well at least I didn’t poach every bounty for myself.”

Kuina shrugged.

“Not my fault you’re slow. And I split the money, didn’t I?”

Zoro was terrible with money, and was happy to ignore it until his last beri was spent, so along with navigation, Kuina was the one who made sure they stayed well situated.

“It’s not the money that’s the problem. We’re out here finding opponents.”

“Trust me, they were hardly opponents.”

Zoro huffed and closed his eyes.

“Well, I’m going to nap. But you owe me a fight after dinner.”

All their years together and Kuina still couldn’t tell if he was messing with her, or he really could just fall asleep that fast. She sighed, focusing on stretching, then running through some solo kata. It was one of the simpler movesets, but she’d been wanting to perfect it. She must have run through it a hundred times this week, but she always missed something; her foot turned a tic too far out, the blade not making that perfect swish. The details were small, usually they didn’t even matter, but Zoro and Kuina’s spars were won and lost on those tiny details. Someday, against Mihawk, she’d need to move without a single mistake.

When she heard something fire from another ship, her first reaction was mild irritation at being interrupted. Then her brain caught up and she kicked Zoro awake.

“Hey. That fight you wanted is here.”

What had hit their ship was a spear, slung with a long chain to pull them towards a pirate ship. They both grinned. Rather than sinking them, these pirates clearly thought they could reel them in and loot them. 

Perfect.

Zoro turned to the crew.

“You all get below deck. We can handle this.”

“Are you sure you can… you could die!” the captain said, though he was running for the door below deck.

“We’ll take care of it.”

Once everyone was below, the deck was eerily silent. The process of letting their boat be reeled in was painfully slow.

Kuina sighed, sick of waiting.

“Let’s go.”

She jumped onto the flattest chain link she could see. Thankfully, the chain was taut enough it didn’t even shake when Zoro jumped on behind her.

It was good footwork practice. The chains were each a little too small or her foot, so she had to balance across links or land on the ball of her foot. Zoro was clearly struggling to keep up. His footwork had always been sloppier than hers, but he could make longer jumps, so he wasn’t far. Good. She didn’t need him whining that she’d taken everyone out alone.

“Captain, there’s something on the rope!”

Kuina saw the flash of a muzzle and dropped, catching herself with her hands and, before they could aim, hoisting herself back to the top of the chain at a crouch. She didn’t watch her balance now when she ran. There were a few small stumbles, but, hopefully, it just made her a more difficult target.

Drawing Wado, she took the final stretch to the deck in a leap, slashing less to hit and more to force the three men holding guns off target. She could hear the familiar sound of Zoro’s feet hitting the deck behind her.

It was easier than a kata, really. Striking somebody down didn’t require perfection.

The walk back across the chain was harder with the treasure, but it made it all the more satisfying to slash away the chain. (They’d played jenkan for the honors, which Kuina won because Zoro still hadn’t realized he always picked scissors.)

The crew seemed awed by them and made no attempt to take their treasure.

There was a certain heaviness between Zoro and Kuina. They hadn’t fought to kill, but it wasn’t as if they’d avoided it. It wasn’t the first time she’d killed somebody (she’d thrown up that night and blamed it on the sake), but she hadn’t numbed to it either.

“I don’t get why so many people want to be pirates,” Kuina said. “Like money and all, but people talk about it so romantically. What’s the appeal?”

She thought back to the smell of the boat, the pirate captain trying to hide in his cabin and sending his lackeys to die.

“I guess it’s for people with authority issues. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to punch a marine or two and say fuck it?” he said, like he wasn’t the poster child for authority issues. “Except you have to listen to a captain still. Not to mention always having to watch your back, not even being able to land on most islands.”

Kuina nodded. But, she supposed, people didn’t think about that when they sailed out. They just wanted easy money and no consequences.”

Zoro and her were free. They sailed where they wanted, didn’t listen to anyone, but they had freedom because they could take care of themselves. Perhaps that’s why so many little boys sailed away to become pirates: they wanted freedom, but weren’t strong enough to take it.

“Being a captain could be fun,” Kuina said. “Wouldn’t have to take orders that way.” 

“Except you’d still be spending all your time getting the marines off your ass. The only way to go is being one of those legal pirates, like Mihawk.”

Kuina snickered.

“Of course you go to that, you and your weird crush on Hawk Eyes.”

“For fuck’s- It’s not a crush. But he’s the one we’ve got to beat, right?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about him while you… handled your sword.”

Zoro glared, then got an evil grin, and Kuina mentally scolded herself. She really needed to stop trying to tease a man who had absolutely no shame.

“I think you might be projecting some warlord related feelings,” he said. “Weren’t you the one who told me how you wanted Boa Hancock to-”

In one smooth motion, she flipped a dagger out of her boot and held it to his throat.

“Don’t finish that sentence.” 

He laughed again and Kuina vowed she was never going to drink with Zoro again. Even though she definitely would. Damn him for having the alcohol tolerance of Gold Roger. Damn her for being such a lightweight. And extra damn her for drinking with him all the time anyways.

Zoro had never known how selfish he was until Usopp and Nami got on board.

Luffy had saved him. 

It had been hard to recognize a downward spiral from the inside. He had been pursuing his dream, no matter the cost. A dream that had gotten heavy with the weight of a promise to a dead man. (You stole his name. You lived when he died. You cannot rest, you cannot doubt, don’t breathe, don’t regret, fight, fight, fight.) 

But Kuina hadn’t chosen to be the best for Zoro’s sake. The first time she’d won a match, a seven year old with a bokken as tall as her, she’d fallen in love. Now, carrying Zoro’s name, the beloved promise had festered into a curse.

But hadn’t it always been so fun, back before Zoro died?. She’d been so happy.

And suddenly, the world was fun again. Fighting Luffy (with sticks and oars and other vaguely sword-shaped objects that couldn’t slice through fingers) was the first proper challenge he’d had in years. Kicking somebody’s ass felt so much better when you had to earn it, when you had to pull yourself up out of the dirt and try again.

Which was what led to the discovery that he was a bit selfish. Because now Nami and Usopp were on board. Which was great. They needed a crew. Nami was suspicious and Usopp was annoying, but he trusted Luffy’s judgement.

But Zoro was having trouble silencing the little voice that said ‘Back off. He’s my happiness. Go find your own.’ That wanted to show them how far they were from his level (They were an inventor and navigator. He knew they didn’t need to be able to fight. It wasn’t like he could out-navigate Nami. Or beat Usopp at... whatever you called what Usopp did ). More crew meant less sparring and more long meals and stories and… it was uncomfortable. Zoro and his father were both quiet people, and the Going Merry was constant noise. He would need to get used to being casually grabbed and shoved and hugged.

With the real Zoro, it had been the two of them against the world, but Luffy couldn’t be his new Zoro. He was part of a crew now, a new, tentative family, and… it was new, fragile. This is why he didn’t hold babies. He wasn’t built to care for fragile things. He didn’t know how to place himself in a group, and he knew he was coming off as cold and silent. But he didn’t know how to… be part of this.

But there were definite advantages, and Nami working out the budget was definitely one of them.

“Alright, I’ll handle the food shopping. Which is going to take most of our budget because  _ some _ people won’t stay out of our supplies. Beyond that, you all have 2500 beris for clothes. We’re going to the grand line, so you all better come back with a winter jacket and shoes. Luffy, I’m holding your money because I know you’ll spend it on street vendors, but you can still pick the jacket.”

Luffy pouted.

“No I won’t.”

“You will,” Zoro said. “We should just all shop together. Otherwise Usopp will get swindled.”

Nami sighed.

“Fair, just… can we all try and look a little less suspicious? I know we don’t have official wanted posters or anything, but we’re a little recognizable.”

“Lemme go get changed,” Zoro said.

He still had some women’s clothes in his bag for that very reason.

His current fashion was more traditional than he’d intended. He’d always preferred wearing hakama since they disguised his leg movements, but he used to wear them with t-shirts. When Zoro died, he’d taken to wearing a bandana along with the name (though his was red. Green had never suited him), but he’d also swapped the t-shirts for a loose kimono shirt and jacket that hid his chest. He could only compress it so much without restricting his breathing.

Kuina had more of a chest when she was younger, but the moment it started interfering with her movement, she’d told her father that they either paid a doctor to take care of it or she would cut them off herself. So a compress and loose clothing hid them fine.

The downside was a loose kimono also covered his muscles, so his ‘girl’ clothing was his chance to correct that. He’d chosen a black tanktop and jeans that, along with hugging the few curves he still had, showed off hard-won biceps.

Outfit changed, he pulled his thoughts back to when he’d been Kuina, shifted from the wide, confident stance she’d stolen from Zoro. In the mirror, Kuina looked back. It was not the same girl who had grieved Zoro. She looked more dangerous, hardened by grief and training, hair cut short, skin darkened by years out in the sun. Wado looked stark at her side against black fabric.

She always expected it to feel stranger, dressing like this, but it was neither a homecoming nor a betrayal. She was still Kuina, a daughter whose inheritance was stolen by her gender, who measured every interaction as a fight. She was Zoro, wandering the sea with the name of a dead friend and the sword of an estranged father. 

She was the future greatest swordsman in the world. The rest was just sentiment and aesthetic.

She rolled her shoulders, adjusting to the air on her arms, then hid Zoro’s swords. She didn’t like not having them. It was the only thing of his she’d carried. The rest of his few possessions burned with the body. She liked to be able to reach to her hip and feel them there, but they made her too recognizable. Carefully, she stowed them under the floorboards, resisting talking to them. They were swords. They weren’t worried about if she’d return.

She felt so naked, stepping on deck without swords, she forgot that Wado hanging alone at her hip would probably not be considered the most notable change to her appearance.

Nami was quick to gather herself and smile.

“Hey Zoro.”

Usopp struggled a bit more to cover his confusion.

“Hey, uh, Zoro, you’ve got, uh...” he gestured vaguely to his chest.

“Zoro, where’s your other swords?” Luffy asked. Thankfully someone on this ship had priorities.

“Figured they were too recognizable. I see you kept the hat.”

“Yeah, but I wore a jacket! It’s not even red.”

Zoro sighed.

“I guess it isn’t, Captain. Let’s go.”

The walk to the village was mostly quiet, but if the silence was awkward, Luffy didn’t seem to have noticed. Nami smiled as Luffy made his way down the path getting into every single bush, tree, and ditch on the way.

It was nice to pretend that she lived in the same world as Luffy, a world where all this was simple, where he could just declare her his navigator and they could sail into the grand line and into a life of adventure. Sometimes she hated him a bit, for not finding her before Arlong, for showing her how much brighter life could be.

It was a suicide mission, going to the grand line. She knew that. Still, she wished she could be like Zoro and Usopp. So she played pretend, like she belonged here. Like she wouldn’t betray them. Until time was up, she could pretend she was allowed to have this.

Which is why she was trying to be tactful, because, in the wonderful world where she stayed with this crew, she cared what Zoro thought.

But, see, she didn’t know what his deal was.

Nami loved being a girl. She liked the clothes, she liked her enemies underestimating her, and it sure made a lot of pirates stupider. She’d seduced a few people in drag over the years (sometimes out of necessity, but a few times on bets), but the sea had a lot of doors open to a pretty young woman. Plenty of dangers too, but that’s why you carried a knife. Pretending to be a boy all the time sounded miserable.

But there was no relief on Zoro. He changed his mannerisms easily, but he didn’t seem to revel in dressing like a woman, which made Nami wonder if he wasn’t pretending. Maybe he was more like Nojiko. But that didn’t seem right either.

It had always been clear with Nojiko. When they became family, Nojiko already knew she was a girl. The only time she’d ever said anything else was after her first breakup. She was thirteen and she’d fallen for some cabin boy on a merchant ship. They’d had a dumb teenage courtship, then she’d worked up the courage to tell him she had a dick, he’d turned out to be a dick, and Nojiko had cried into her pillow all night.

For the first time, Nojiko had tried to dress like a boy.

_ ‘Who’s going to want me? I’d rather be loved and a man than alone and a woman. I need to be realistic.’ _

It had sucked. Nojiko had seemed so small and unhappy. Thankfully, the next time Nami visited, Nojiko had gotten over the asshole and was as radiant as ever.

So it worried her, when Zoro had come out with some unexpected curves showing, that he was forcing himself to reveal something he didn’t want to. To dress in a past he’d left behind. But he wasn’t smaller like Nojiko had been. He seemed… fine. Not relieved, not tense. The only thing that seemed to be bothering him was not having those two swords he didn’t even use. Just the same Zoro, but with tits. (It was a bit of a relief. Even if there wasn’t another woman on the ship, it still meant there was somebody who knew what it was like to get ogled, and somebody she could complain to when she was flying baker.)

Which left her trying to find the most polite way to ask if she should be trying to get Zoro some much needed girl time or trying to communicate full support for his manhood in a way that wouldn’t involve mentioning Nojiko. Hopefully before Usopp or Luffy said something stupid. And wasn’t ‘time before Luffy does something stupid’ the Merry’s personal ticking time bomb?

Luffy swung down from a tree, then transferred himself to Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro took the gesture as casually as it was given, shifting to accommodate the weight.

“Ne, Zoro?” Luffy said, and Nami braced for imminent detonation of the most awkward conversation she’d had since one of the Arlong Pirates had decided somebody needed to give her the talk without realizing that she did not, in fact, share much biology with a seahorse, “do you dress like a boy because you like it, or cuz you think you have to?”

Well, that was more painless than expected. It was easy to forget that her dumbass temporary captain could talk to people, in his own way. Nami could practically see Usopp’s ear growing with interest. Nice to see she wasn’t the only nosy one on the crew.

Zoro shrugged.

“Neither, I guess.”

“Whaddya mean? Cuz Usopp says Nami can’t bathe with us cuz she’s a girl, which is stupid because bathing is way more fun with people especially if you fall asleep, so if you can’t be a boy, you have to tell me.”

Well, now that Luffy had kicked down the door, Nami might as well make sure the damn conversation actually happened. Otherwise Luffy would probably just turn this into a conversation about why bathing with friends was better.

“I’ve dressed as a man a few times,” Nami said, “but it’s just a costume I put on. So I think Luffy wants to know if it’s a costume for you. How we should treat you on the ship.”

“I mean, obviously it’s a disguise! She’s got-” Usopp argued, but couldn’t make it to the relevant part of the sentence before getting flustered.

“I don’t really get why it’s important,” Luffy complained. “Zoro can do what he wants. We’re pirates. And it’s not like being a boy is hard or anything.”

“I don’t really care either way,” Zoro said. “It can be easier as a guy. I sure thought so as a kid, but that’s not why. I’m borrowing this name. Maybe he’d be pissed I took it, but he’s dead, so he doesn’t get a say. He wanted the world to know his name. And they will.”

He said it with the same confidence Luffy called himself the pirate king, but it was… more brittle. Luffy knew he'd be king like he knew the sun would rise. Zoro didn’t speak like it was inevitable, just necessary, like the world where he failed could not even be considered.

“Well…...” Luffy said slowly, “I don’t really get it, but it sounds cool! Like we’ve got a secret person sailing with us! But I still don’t get if I can take baths with Zoro.”

“It’s fine,” Zoro said, then rolled his eyes at Usopp’s look of horror. “What? It’s Luffy.”

He had a point. Luffy’s seemed to feel the main appeal of naked girls was more opportunity to see cool scars. Nami couldn’t imagine him making the sort of comments she’d had to learn to ignore.

“I guess you’re right,” Usopp admitted. 

“So can we get food now?”

“Luffy, I told you! We’re getting clothing!”

They were so stupid and irresponsible. It was amazing they hadn’t gotten themself killed yet. It was a constant struggle to keep him even basically on task, and Nami was pretty sure she was going to invent a new type of ulcer dealing with this crew.

But she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Time for Mihawk
> 
> Also, the address some of my choices here:  
> I wanted to avoid this being about Dealing with Transphobia, but I also didn't want Everybody In One Piece is Woke and Uses 2020 American Terminology, so I tried to find that balance.  
> I decided to make Nojiko trans so there could be somebody in the scene who had some context. I also hope this doesn't read as 'Usopp is transphobic because I hate him'. I am very fond of Usopp, and he is just nervous and out of his depth.  
> Kuina/Zoro uses pronouns based on presentation. I wouldn't really call them bi-gender, since they aren't really following any internal gender sense to decide how to present, just rolling with what works. If I have to make a canon, 2020 call, Kuina's gender is 'swords (and grief)'. Other characters will use whatever pronouns make sense to them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I realized I haven't credited her, thank you to lunaRubato for looking this over, and also putting up with me.

Of course Luffy wanted the blond playboy to be their cook.

Zoro wanted to blame Luffy’s stomach, but he knew Luffy’s criteria for crew was a far more baffling calculation.

And he would be crew. Zoro had learned that Luffy could actually take no for an answer when meat wasn’t involved. He usually chose not to listen to other people, but he only pushed, really pushed, when… well, Zoro didn’t know exactly when. He didn’t understand the factors in Luffy’s bizarre mental gymnastics.

But he’d been right about Zoro, saw something in him he hadn’t even seen in himself. So if Luffy said the asshole was crew, he was crew. No matter how annoying he was.

So that was that. Nami didn’t seem to mind being waited on, but Zoro was definitely not taking any baths with that man. And if he tried that heart eyes bullshit on Zoro, he was getting worse than a stern punch to the head.

At least the food was good. He-

**_There’s a storm coming._ **

The feeling hit him with dread certainty. There was something pressing on his lungs, something important on the edge of his senses like a voice he couldn’t quite hear.

“You dropped your fork,” Luffy said, head tilted a bit, giving Zoro leeway to avoid the unspoken question.  _ What’s wrong? _

“Something’s coming,” he said.

Luffy nodded.

“Got it. Let’s get back to the boat then. Nami’s there alone.”

Technically, she was with those weak bounty hunters, but they didn’t count.

Instead, they got Don Krieg. He shoved in the door before they could leave, and Zoro finally got to see some of what Luffy saw in the cook. Feeding a man knowing he might use the energy to kill you was stupid, but it was a good stupid. Luffy stupid.

“Zoro,” Luffy whispered, way too loud to actually function as a whisper, “is Don what you felt coming?”

“No, wasn’t that guy. It’s still...”

**_Run_ ** _ ,  _ a traitorous part of his brain hissed.  **_Run! It’s coming!_ **

His focus was split. The adrenaline when Krieg attacked, the hurt when they realized Nami betrayed them, was undercut with the same  **_run run RUN_ ** . His knuckles were white on Wano’s hilt. 

So, when Don Krieg’s ship split in twain, it wasn’t a shock. 

It was a revelation.

He’d fought so many people, but none of them felt like this, not even Luffy. He’d been waiting to see what a truly great swordsman was, how far he was from his dream.

In an instant, he knew Mihawk was more than he’d dared hope for, more than he’d ever feared. He had no chance against Mihawk. 

He watched the man deflect bullets. Perhaps Zoro could do that, in a desperate strike, but not like that, not a calm, smooth motion with perfect direction.

A smart man would run, or bow. Or at least try to fly under the radar.

Zoro had never been smart when it came to this.

He could lie and say it was a tactical decision. Mihawk wanted a fight, and if Zoro could provide it, his durable but Very Sliceable captain would be safe. But the reason Zoro wanted to fight him wasn’t about sense, at least not in the traditional sense. 

What true musician wouldn’t want to sing a duet with a virtuoso? What artist saw a master at work and was content to watch a single brushstroke? Looking at that awesome power, he wanted to face it, study it. He would lose. He might die. But how could he see this and just turn away, wait for later? How many years had he been waiting to clash swords without the boring knowledge that his victory was set from the start?

But Zoro couldn’t just do what he wanted anymore. He looked back at Luffy. Luffy just nodded.

“I said I wouldn’t get in your way, Zoro.”

Zoro nodded and stepped forward.

He couldn’t afford to sound like a coward, but he didn’t want to sound arrogant either. He straightened his back.

“Warlord, I’d like to request a duel.”

Mihawk’s gaze turned on him like the barrel of a gun, and Zoro met it unflinchingly. Then Mihawk sighed.

“If you were a decent swordsman, you’d be able to see the disparity in our abilities before we even drew our weapons.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had the honor of fighting a swordsman great enough to beat me. I’d be disappointed if it was easy.”

“So you rush to your death. Tell me, child, is it courage or ignorance that makes you ask for this fight?”

Zoro smiled back, danger thrilling through him. There was almost a hum to the old twin blades at his hip, and he offered a silent apology for not drawing them. They wouldn’t be strong enough for this fight. Even if they’d been held with dreams of Mihawk’s blood, he needed Wano.

“It's the drive to correct ignorance. I want to see what it means to be the greatest.”

Mihawk gave another long look, then drew… a dagger.

Zoro swallowed his anger. He was used to being dismissed. Not as much these days, but he’d grown up hearing it all. Even the men who were kind so often held off, not realizing they were insulting her by denying her a proper fight.

She hadn’t complained or sulked, she had forced them to take her seriously with her own power. If he wanted Mihawk to draw his sword, he would have to make him with skill, not complaints. He drew Wano, the slide of blade against sheath a comforting song.

_ It’s alright,  _ it said,  _ you’ve done this your whole life. You’ve breathed this. This is just another enemy. _

“I’m not the sort of beast who goes all out to hunt a rabbit. Unfortunately, this is the smallest blade I have on me.”

Zoro didn’t rise to the taunts. He bowed like he would have back at the dojo, then stepped forward. Charging was a bad idea. Zoro couldn’t win on strength, but, with a knife that small, Mihawk had given himself no reach or leverage. No matter how great he was, there would be an opening.

Zoro pivoted, letting himself half fall to the side and sweeping his blade up, only for reverberations to run up his arm as Mihawk’s knife caught the blade. Zoro moved fast, every hit slicing the air, but each was deflected with ease. Worse, he hadn’t even seen an opening, and while he pushed, already feeling the mental and physical strain of strike after strike, Mihawk seemed almost bored.

It shouldn’t be possible. Zoro could hide his tells well, but he’d understand if Mihawk could read them. The slightest tilt of shoulders or shift of the heel could give you away, but Mihawk moved faster than that, blocking swings before Zoro even decided to take them. 

It felt like his mind was falling behind his body, strikes starting to lose their lethality as he pushed past his limits only to be met with absolute calm.

“Your swordplay is more refined than I would have expected. Tell me, what drives you to fight so desperately? What would you do, if you had any true strength?”

Once upon a time, the answer would have been simple. Kuina had fought for the same reason she breathed.

Then there had been the promise, but he was starting to realize that wasn’t enough. He couldn’t center his life around a promise to somebody who wasn’t even alive.

Not that he was breaking that promise but… he needed a better answer.

Hawkeye didn’t give him time to find one. In one quick lunge, he slipped past Zoro’s defense. 

The blade met bone, point embedded in his sternum. Zoro was painfully aware how easy it would be for this man to twist the blade and crack his chest open.

He clenched his jaw, but didn’t cry out.

“What’s your name?” Mihawk asked.

“Roronoa Zoro.”

“I’ll remember it. It’s been a while since I’ve seen this much potential.”

“I’ll do you the courtesy of cutting you down with my black blade, the world’s strongest sword.”

Well, if he did kill Zoro… this was how he’d choose to go.

But he had promised.

One last charge, one last push. He couldn’t die here.

Mihawk drew back the sword and lunged, but Zoro swallowed the instinctual fear and held Wado with steady hands, dashing towards death.

_ She clung to the Wado Ichimanji as they rowed away from the village. _

_ She shouldn’t have taken it. How could she hold the crowning jewel of her family’s legacy, even as she ran from the burdens that came with it? The dojo. Marriage. Her father. _

_ She hadn’t left him a note. She wouldn’t have known whether to beg forgiveness or tell him all the ways in which he’d failed her. Zoro had left the note, and she hadn’t asked what it said. _

_ She let him row. They weren’t going anywhere in particular, so there was no harm in getting as lost as possible. _

Wado split clean, top half of the sword hitting the deck like a corpse.

There was no time to react. Mihawk was still charging, and Kuina didn’t have a proper sword to block with. If Wado couldn’t hold up to the black blade, there was no point in drawing Zoro’s swords just so they could be destroyed. But he wasn’t dying without a fight. He held what remained of Wado like a knife.

“What do you hope to do with half a blade?”

Zoro smiled.

“I’d rather die fighting than running.”

“Admirable, but don’t be in such a hurry to die. You have a lot left to learn.”

The dark blade fell, but Zoro didn’t let himself flinch.

The blade was so sharp that Zoro felt the blood before the pain. Or perhaps it was shock. The force of the blow had thrown him to the deck. It was hard to see and his shoulder felt bitingly cold.

The world felt distant, muffled voices not quite managing to form into anything coherent.

The pressure that had been slowly bearing down on Zoro started to retreat. Hawkeye was leaving, and the voices around him started to press in, but Zoro honed in on one voice.

“Captain?”

“Yup. Right here.” A rubbery hand took his, and, despite the casual tone, he could feel Luffy’s anger. Zoro gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He was fine, better than fine.

That was the greatest. So much further beyond his power than he could ever have imagined. His stolen treasure was in pieces on the deck, and Zoro couldn’t stop grinning.

It had been so damn beautiful.

“I’m not strong enough yet, but I will be. I promise.”

Heart racing in excitement, blood pouring down his face and chest, that fragile, forming dream took shape. He wasn’t a child, desperate to be the best because then, maybe, it would finally be enough, finally force them to see a warrior instead of a little girl. He wasn’t a lone killer, hoping to meet a blade strong enough to give his life meaning or cut him down.

Strength wasn’t the goal anymore. He had a reason to be strong. Being the strongest meant nobody would tell you how to live. It meant nobody could take the people you loved.

“I’ll be better than him, better than anyone. I’ll be a swordsman worthy of a pirate king.”

When he lost consciousness, he was still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO some talk on power levels!  
> Going into this, I didn't want to do Kuina or Zoro dirty. I tend to find 'canon, but more overpowered' stories a bit dull, and I love Zoro and didn't want to imply that he needed to be replaced with somebody 'better', but I also didn't want to make Kuina weaker or keep her abilities exactly the same as canon Zoro's.  
> Overall, I imagine Kuina has less raw power than Zoro, but she's faster, both mentally and physically. If he was alive, they'd be about evenly matched.  
> That said, she's a bit better than canon Zoro because her and SooN!Zoro trained together a lot longer. Canon Zoro only had about a year with Kuina, but these two had a lot longer together, and went from hostile rivals to actually exchanging tips and techniques. They were both able to grow a lot further, and, you may notice this chapter, Kuina's got a bit of perception haki going.  
> Honestly though, the biggest advantage Kuina has on Zoro in this is basic medical knowledge and a sense of direction.  
> The biggest disadvantage is that Kuina's a lot less hardy than Zoro and actually needs time to heal from injuries. Like everyone in One Piece, Kuina's a bit hardier than a real person, but she can't just nap off a stab wound. She also manages to have /less/ people skills than Zoro, which is a feat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one fought me a lot, but I emerge victorious!
> 
> TW for: Self destructive behavior

Zoro had been dead for five islands now. She wasn’t sure how long that was. A month? She was having trouble with time. She was having trouble with a lot of things.

Kuina wondered if his ashes had reached her dad, what sort of grave her dad had given his never-quite-a-son.

She kept finding herself talking like him, moving like him, as if that would somehow bring him closer. She hadn’t cried. She just felt numb and angry and tired.

Couldn’t even grieve right.

At first, she’d set sail for the Grand Line, but she eventually realized that would be a glorified suicide attempt, so she was just… wandering.

Tonight, she was in some skeezy bar, throwing back drinks that could burn her hair off. It would be a great bar for bounty hunting, but she wasn’t in the mood. The shouting, shoving bastards just annoyed her. She hated how the world kept moving when her own was frozen.

It wasn’t supposed to be him. She should have died, become a footnote in his grand tale. Instead, he was a footnote in hers. The world would never know who he was. She didn’t have the words to force people to understand how amazing he was,what they’d lost.

So she sat and drank.

“Get off the table, man!” somebody yelled.

The group of men in the corner had been getting increasingly drunk and loud, but it looked like they’d finally broken into full on shouting. Kuina rubbed her temples, trying to shut them out.

“No, you gotta- gotta listen to me! I fuckin’ run this town, okay? Even the mayor knows- knows not to fuck with me, so I’m not drinking this shit beer.”

“Sir you need to-”

“No! You need to shut up and bring us another round! Something good, for once!”

Kuina picked up her glass and threw it at the wall beside the man’s head.

The bar went quiet.

“Shut up. You’re loud,” Kuina said, swaying a bit as she stood. Assholes.

“You looking for a fight?” the man asked. He was twice her size, but he looked as overconfident as he was drunk.

Kuina cracked her knuckles, laying her swords carefully to the side.

“I’d love a good fight. But I’m not sure I’m drunk enough to give you weaklings a chance.”

The man stumbled over, friends behind him, and Kuina stared back.

“Come on. I’ll give you a few free swings.”

The man snarled and swung his fist, and Kuina leaned out of the way, stumbling a bit. Thankfully, the man telegraphed every swing dramatically. Forget drunk, she could have dodged him comatose.

He got angrier with every swing. It was a bit fun, lazily dodging and letting him work himself into spitting fury. 

“You little- Hold still!”

Kuina held out her arms.

“Alright. Go ahead. Take your hit.”

The man froze, looking for the trap.

“Go on. Hit me.”  _ Give me a real fight. I’m drunk, swordless, make me feel  _ something.

The hit connected with a crunch, and blood ran down Kuina’s lip.

She grinned, teeth red. She reached up and cracked her nose back into place.

“My turn.”

He went down in one punch. 

So did his friends.

The bar was still quiet, the other patrons having left or been left stunned.

She stared at the ground, knuckles raw, blood dripping down her chin and the back of her throat. 

She couldn’t feel a thing.

Stitches hurt more the second time, but Zoro refused the painkillers. They clouded his head and made his body sluggish. Save them for somebody who needed them.

Besides, it was less painful than this damn party.

Usopp and Luffy were both in their element, Usopp soaking up the attention almost as greedily as Luffy was inhaling the buffet. Sanji was cooking, attempting to flirt with Nami and Nojiko as he ignored everyone else. People kept trying to pull Zoro in for a chat or a dance, but he didn’t like strangers, or crowds.

It was too much. His entire life, Zoro had only really cared about two people. Now, in the span of a month, Luffy had insisted on testing the limits of his heart. 

It had been easy with Luffy. It wasn’t replacing what he’d lost, but Luffy had eased the aching emptiness, and found his way into Zoro’s heart with frightening ease.

He’d resented Usopp for a bit, like he resented most lonely boys who acted out for attention. Kuina had never gotten away with causing a scene for attention. Even Zoro had been given more leeway (because Koshiro loved swordplay as much as Kuina, and Kuina’s potential had an expiration date). Her options to try and win Koshiro’s rare affection had been to be perfect or cut her losses and torch the dojo, and she’d chosen perfection.

Then again, she’d had a father to impress. Usopp seemed to have mostly raised himself, and there was something scrappy and determined and fragilly heroic about him that made Zoro want to protect him.

Sanji, thankfully, had not found his way into Zoro’s heart, not yet. He respected the strength he’d felt when Sanji kicked him earlier, and the strength of his conviction, but he still found the rest of the man insufferable. 

But he had cared about Nami. He understood her choices, even understood she was trying to protect them, but forgiveness wasn’t coming easy. He had let her in, let her past his fortified walls, and she had lied. She had used them, she hadn’t trusted them, and it hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did.

From his spot against the wall, he saw Nami slip away from the party, and maybe there was something he was supposed to say, but Zoro had no idea what it was.. He just wanted to be back on the Merry, but the thought of sitting on that ship alone while the crew partied was even more depressing.

He intended to just go for a walk, but found himself tracing the same path he’d walked hours ago.

Arlong Park was in ruins, but he wasn’t out of his element here. Zoro might not be good company, but he had a strong stomach and a stronger body.

He dealt with the corpses first. He felt anybody who killed should have the guts to deal with the aftermath. He wasn’t sure how fishmen prefered to be laid to rest though. All the evils they’d committed were no excuse to desecrate a corpse, so he dug individual graves. The villagers deserved to not have to look at these faces again.

That done, night fully upon him now, he used the moonlight to start sorting through the rubble, separating concrete from wood from tile. From the ruins, he also picked out personal effects, reminders that the men he’d killed were people. There were photos, letters, old trinkets. They showed a longing for home, and many letters mentioned making the East Blue safe for their wives and children.

He didn’t regret killing them. The kingdom they dreamed of was built on innocent corpses, and Zoro had killed better men for less, but he still stacked the letters and photos carefully and put them by the graves.

The rest of the salvageable material went into two main stacks. One was for basics, blankets, pens, shirts. The other was for things of value, from mermaid statuettes to stacks of berri. 

And then there were the maps, pages upon pages, carefully drawn in Nami’s steady hand. Half drawn maps with ink blotches and scribbles, sketches and notes, but mostly endless pages of pristine drawings, years of Nami’s life rendered in stark, technical elegance.

Luffy never could have done it. The captain never could have worked under somebody he hated for a moment. He would have fought tooth and nail until Arlong cut off his head.

Zoro thought he could have lasted a bit longer. He could have kept a poker face long enough to try and slip into Arlong’s room at night and slit his throat.

But Nami had spent years serving her mother’s killer. Zoro had seen her laugh with them, flatter them. And it wasn’t even for the chance at revenge. Nami’s plan didn’t end with Arlong dead or captured, just her village free, and Zoro wasn’t sure if it spoke to Nami’s strength or something far more confusing and frightening.

There was no undoing what had been done to Nami. All he could do was keep her safe from now on, use his strength to protect her dream. And, for now, he could sort through the rubble.

Luffy found him when dawn had just started to break. 

“You’re a pirate now, you know. We can just let other people clean up the messes.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to do this,” Zoro said. “It’s satisfying.”

“Okay. Want help?”

“No. I’m almost done anyway. You want to take any of this with us?”

Luffy looked down at the stack of money and treasures, then at the maps.

“No. Leave it for the village. We’re not taking any of this place with us.”

Would Nami be alright with that? These maps were years of her hard work, work she might need to do again if she left them.

But Luffy seemed to understand what Zoro couldn’t. He would make sure to take all of their navigator to the Grand Line, not leave a part of her here. Zoro just had to trust him.

“Sounds good, captain,” he said, tucking the papers half under a plank where they wouldn’t blow away. “Nami’s strong, isn’t she.”

Luffy grinned, shining with pride.

“Yeah! My crew can only have the best!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be the Sanji chapter, but I looked at my outline and realized I wanted some Tashigi time before Loguetown so... if you were here for the main cast, sorry.  
> And now... for something completely different-

When Tashigi Kuri meditated, she pictured the forge in her hometown. Her breath became the bellows, each exhale stoking the fire higher. Her heart beat the steady rhythm of hammer against anvil.

She’d spent half her childhood in that forge, even when the day was so hot that the forge made her dizzy. Kuri simply wasn’t a child who fit anywhere. 

For her parents, it was her absolute disinterest in everything that wasn’t swordplay. She did her chores. She never talked back. She tried  _ so hard  _ to be a good kid, but somehow she always did something wrong, or was covered in dirt when important guests arrived, or accidentally upset a neighborhood kid.

School, on the other hand, was hell. 

Since her first day of school, Kuri had found comfort in the rules. Unlike her parents house, where she never understood why she was in trouble, there was a sign on the wall telling her what to do and what not to do. The rules helped people be nice to each other. 

Except nobody followed them. And they treated her like she was stupid for following them. Everybody hated her. Tattletale. Teacher's pet. Goody-two-shoes. They thought it was funny how she got confused at pretend games and fell for lies. Clumsy, spacy, stupid.

She wanted to be fun and have friends! She wanted to get the jokes and break the rules. But when she saw something wrong, she had to get involved. She could let go of putting the pens away wrong, but things like hurting and stealing... 

Eventually, she learned adults were useless. If there was a bully, she had to be strong enough to deal with it herself. Even if she was hated, even if she lost and ended up hurt, she tried to do right. She got used to staying on guard for spitballs and ambushes. She got used to even the adults asking if she could be a bit less… the way she was. (The answer was no. She didn’t know how to explain to them that this  _ was _ her trying to be normal.)

Joriz, the town’s blacksmith, was thought of as a gruff man, but he was the one person Kuri felt comfortable around. He answered her endless questions about his work and never treated her as annoying. He told her stories of great swords and swordsmen.

Kuri saw Marines for the first time when she was fourteen. Her village wasn’t wealthy or near the water, so they didn’t have to worry about pirates. They’d never dealt with a criminal who warranted Marine presence, but a man had murdered his friend in a drunken fight over a girl.

He had used one of Joriz’s swords.

Intellectually, Kuri knew once a weapon was made, anybody could use it, but a part of her  _ couldn’t understand _ . She had watched that blade be forged, seen the love and care put into it, and that man had taken it and used it to do something horrible.

After that day, two things changed.

The stories that had once comforted her now burned in her chest. She learned how many beautiful swords Joriz had told her about sat gathering dust in some private collection, and how many more were in the hands of pirates and bandits and insurgents. Beautiful swords, made with love and care, used to cut down good people.

But now she thought about white coats, people taking situations where people lied and hurt and saying no, no more. A place where her desire to make the world better wouldn’t be a joke. A place where rules would not be seen as shackles, but as a way to protect the freedom of everyone, to make sure people could live their lives without fear.

Three months ago, on her sixteenth birthday, she’d finally left home to join the marines, dreaming of a place she’d belong.

Two months ago, she’d finally accepted that maybe she didn’t belong anywhere.

“Where are you all going! Larson said we had to run five miles before dinner.”

“C’mon Tash. He left. Nobody’s going to notice if we take a break, so relax.”

“That’s not the point,” Kuri told them. She hated being called Tash. They knew that. “People are going to be depending on us soon. We need to be able to follow orders and build our stamina. We shouldn’t skip out on training.”

“We train all the time.”

She glared.

“Well you can all go have dinner, but I’m going to keep running.”

Nobody liked her here either, but that’s fine. It just hurts, a bit, because she thought things would be different here. But she was still the weird one. She started yelling at people more and smiling less. And she knew things wouldn’t improve. Word was already spreading out of her group of trainees.

Still, she ran, because she was going to make the word better whether the world wanted it or not.

The best thing about eating the Moku Moku Fruit is he could smoke as much as he wanted. Before he ate it, he’d treated cigars as a special treat. With the month he was having, though, Smoker may have decided to give up on his lungs and indulge either way.

Larson barely turned his back and the recruits were making for the mess hall. Most of them hadn’t even completed their first mile, not a single one of them noticing Smoker watching at the edge of the field.

The only one left running didn’t impress him much. She was in shape, but she tripped over her own feet constantly. Besides, he recognized her from the files. Tashigi Kuri, joined three months ago, average scores in most things, but excellent scores in hand-to-hand and notoriously spacey. Rule follower to a fault, her record said, and it took a lot to make a Marine Recruiter say somebody followed too many rules.

That could be good. He needed loyal, honest men. It could also be a problem. He didn’t need somebody to lick his boots  _ or  _ breathe down his neck, and he certainly didn’t need to spend his time holding the hand of somebody that couldn’t think for themselves.

Still, he couldn’t help but approve of her dedication. The part where she tripped and spent five minutes feeling around for her glasses was less impressive, but she got up, elbow skinned and bleeding, and ran without complaint.

As she came around for the next lap, he jumped the fence.

“Recruit, what are you doing out here?” he barked. She snapped to attention.

“Running,” she looked at his uniform for a moment, “uh… Captain.”

“Why?”

“Training,” she answered, clearly struggling not to make it sound like a question.

“Then where are your fellow trainees? Shouldn’t they be running with you?”

“I don’t control their behavior, sir. Only my own.”

A decent answer.

“Let me ask you a question, recruit. Let’s say your unit has gotten intel that a crew you’ve been hunting down plans to attack a small trading port.”

“I’m a recruit, sir. I don’t get intel.”

Smoker sighed. He hadn’t expected her to get sidetracked this early in the conversation.

“This is an imaginary situation about a future mission. Anyway, the small trading port is known to regularly trade with pirates. Your commanding officer orders you to wait out the attack, then go in once the pirates are weakened to avoid Marine casualties.”

Tashigi looked so horrified by the idea that it was hard not to laugh, but he kept poker faced.

“But sir, they’d be… that would be letting pirates kill innocent civilians and doing nothing.”

“Not innocent civilians. Trading with pirates is a crime.”

“Then we fine them or something, not let them die! When I joined the Marines, I put my life on the line to protect civilians. I don’t put civilians' lives on the line to protect myself.”

Again, he held back his smile, though he wasn’t laughing at her anymore.

“Then what do you do? Defy your commander? Fight alone even if you have no chance?”

She’d been flustered. Honestly, the poor girl looked like she was going to cry, but she looked him dead in the eye.

“Then I get demoted, or I die, but I won’t let innocent people get hurt.”

Finally, Smoker let himself smile.

“Once you finish training, how would you feel about working in Loguetown?”

“Sir? Uh… I guess I don’t know much about it.”

“Most people know it for Gold Roger, but it’s also the main island pirates use to get to and from the Grand Line. That means it’s the barrier between a bunch of crazy bullshit and the East Blue. I’m working to hold that line, but half the men I was assigned have been taking bribes behind my back, or turning a blind eye to the people that have, so I’m a little short staffed now. I came here looking for some reliable recruits. Most of those lot showed their nature when they skipped out on training.”

Fuck, she was tearing up again. Maybe this hadn’t been a good choice.

“I’d be honored, sir.”

Seeing the joy in her eyes and the determined set of her jaw, he couldn’t find it in him to be too worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: well, some writers go with the japanese fruit names, some go with english, but like... I have some I like better in english and some I like better in japanese, but using 'no mi' in an english fic feels silly. Hmm.  
> Me: Gonna just use whatever I like. Fuck it. My fic. Moku Moku Fruit. 
> 
> Chose the name 'Kuri' (sweet chestnut) for Tashigi for something that sounded a bit traditional, but had a simple charm. 
> 
> This chapter is highly based on my own experiences as a neurodiverse tiny who couldn't understand Why People Would Do Bad Things. Once I had to play the murderer in 'mafia' and they had to take me out of the game because I wouldn't stop crying. I refused to read any book where the main characters lied. RIP to all the adults who had to deal with me. You deserve medals.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles* Alright. Let's deal with Sanji.
> 
> CWs: Lots of vague references to unpleasant things including sexual harassments and abusive relationships. LOTS of gender essentialist bullshit.

Somehow, mornings were so much quieter than nights. 

At sea, there wasn’t even a distant bustle of a town or animals in the brush. Sometimes there was a bird cry or the splash of a leaping fish, but mostly it was just steady waves. Zoro loved it. Dawn and him had long been quiet friends, enjoying each other’s company without pretense.

He swung the sword he’d picked up at Arlong Park in comfortingly familiar motions, relieved he hadn’t seemed to have lost any range. It looked worse than it was, a sloppy chunk out of his nose and eyebrow tending to draw winces, but, secretly, Zoro thought it looked kind of cool. 

It was a good morning, dawn particularly vivid, turning the clouds a burning orange against the dark sky. The breeze was enough to cool the sweat on the back of his neck, but not cold enough to bite, and the water was calm and steady.

And then Sanji had to come upstairs. Because he had to be a fucking morning person. Of course.

Zoro didn’t turn around. They could both just do their jobs. Morning didn’t belong to him, there was no reason to be snappy.

“If you rip the stitches, I’m letting Nami redo them.”

Zoro suppressed a shudder and turned to glare.

“If I rip my stitches, I can do them. But I won’t. I didn’t tear them out because I wasn’t paying attention. I tore them because I was fighting an eight armed octopus man.”

Zoro waited for a reply, but it didn’t come. Sanji was staring and- Shit. 

Zoro had just worn a tank top, expecting to have the morning to himself, leaving his scar and cleavage on full display.

Would he be disgusted? Would he start that insufferable groveling he did with Nami?

“You’re...” Sanji said, but there wasn’t disgust or desire. He looked… he just looked upset and there was an uncomfortable knot in Zoro’s stomach.

“Got a problem, Sanji?”

Sanji didn’t respond. He turned around and went into the kitchen.

When Nami had caught Sanji trying to peek on her in the shower, it had seemed pretty funny, like when Luffy got caught trying to steal a snack.

Zoro hadn’t thought it was funny. He’d taken Luffy aside and told him about how, as captain, he had to make sure that sort of stuff didn’t happen. It was difficult because Luffy didn’t really get why it was a big deal, and when he said that, Zoro started trying to tell him about sex. Why did everybody think Luffy didn’t know what sex was?! He just didn’t get what the big deal was, especially since, despite everybody trying to tell him about it, nobody could seem to agree what it actually was or who you were supposed to do it with.

Gramps said Luffy shouldn’t even think about it until he had a wife. The bandits seemed to think you could do it with just about everybody, and even told each other to go have it with things that weren’t even people when they got mad. Ace mostly just seemed to want to make sure Luffy didn’t accidentally make babies, which wasn’t going to happen because the whole thing just seemed gross.

But he got the basics. People really wanted to get naked and touch each other sometimes, and it made them really stupid. It made Sanji stupid the most, but he didn’t get why it made Zoro get all serious about peeping. When he stole food, the food was gone, but it wasn’t like you lost anything if somebody saw you naked.

But he didn’t have to get it. Zoro said if the captain acted like it wasn’t important, then people might not feel safe on his ship, and he trusted Zoro. Nobody on the Merry was allowed to see people naked without asking! 

He knew eventually Sanji would see Zoro’s chest, and he’d be stupid about it, but it was even more stupid than he was expecting. He’d thought Sanji would probably start acting like he did around Nami. Or maybe it wouldn’t change anything.

Instead Sanji wouldn’t even look at Zoro. They were both pretending the other didn’t exist. Zoro seemed really angry, and Sanji seemed really sad, and Luffy wasn’t sure how to fix it. He gave them two days to see if maybe they could just stop being stupid on their own before he decided enough was enough.

Sanji was smoking on the upper deck, so Luffy sat next to him, perching on the rail.

“Sanji, why are you being so weird around Zoro? Is it because his boobs aren’t as big as Nami’s?”

Sanji sputtered, losing his cigarette into the sea.

“Why would I-! That’s-! No! I don’t care what size Zoro’s- ugh.”

“Good, because that would be a really stupid reason not to talk to Zoro.”

“I’m not ignoring him. I just-” He sighed, lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag. “I hit her.”

“Yeah? So?”

Luffy had hit Zoro lots by now. Fighting Zoro was super fun!

“A gentleman doesn’t hit women.”

“Really? I guess I can’t be a gentleman then, cuz I wanna hit whoever pisses me off. What if a girl’s doing something really bad? Or she wants to fight for fun?”

“Luffy, I- you grew up on an island, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So there were probably a lot of women around.”

“Uh...” Luffy said. There was Dadan and Makino, but he didn’t really know any others. Even Grey Terminal was mostly men.

“Well, the Baratie was all men working there. A lot of the sea crews with just men, so you learn that women are precious gems. Guys that hit women are scum.”

“If Arlong was a fish-lady instead of a fish-dude, I still would have fought him. And Zoro and I fight for fun.”

Sanji ran a hand down his face.

“Not like that. Like guys who beat up on their wives because they aren’t strong enough to fight back.”

“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with Zoro? Zoro’s strong. And sometimes girls hit guys that are weaker than them. Isn’t it just bad to beat up somebody weak?”

Luffy would be so mad if some guy hit Makino, but guys hit Dadan all the time, usually cuz she hit them first. And Dadan had hit him plenty too. 

“Luffy, as a gentleman, it’s my job to protect women. Even if they’re strong, they shouldn’t have to fight.”

“But Zoro likes fighting!” Luffy said. Sanji was being so confusing! “And he seems really annoyed at you. And I think I’d be pretty mad if you said I needed to be protected and shouldn’t fight.”

“Well, I don’t base my morals around what Zoro thinks!”

Okay, Sanji was getting actually angry.

“Talk to Zoro, okay Sanji? Even if you’re mad at him or something, we’re going to get to the Grand Line soon, and I can’t have you two not talking and being all weird.”

“Fine, we’ll talk, but I can’t promise it will help.”

Luffy nods.

Sometimes you needed to let people be stupid for a while.

Sanji didn’t talk to Zoro. What was there to say?

There was something to say, Sanji was sure, but he couldn’t figure it out.

Unfortunately, as they pulled onto a small island to pick up supplies, Zoro took the initiative.

“Come on, cook. We’re going to talk.”

She grabbed Sanji’s arms and began to pull him off the Merry. He looked at the others pleadingly, but Nami and Luffy both looked at them with approval, and Usopp just tried to duck out of view.

Zoro pulled him right into the forest, then sat down on a branch.

“I heard you talking to Luffy,” she started. “You know, growing up, lots of guys wouldn’t fight me at the dojo, or they’d go easy on me. I think some of them were scared of losing to a girl, but most of them just didn’t want to hurt me.”

She glared at him.

“And you know what? If I hadn’t finally met somebody who fought me seriously, it could have gotten me killed. They weren’t protecting me, they were looking down on me and keeping me from getting proper practice, and I learned to kick their asses until they realized they had to take me seriously.”

“So, what? You beat me until I change my morals?”

He’d seen enough of beautiful, amazing women and the men who hurt them. He would never be one of those men. He thought of his mother and Reiju, of every girl who had hidden in the Baratie’s kitchen and begged them for help, of Nami sobbing in the street…

Zoro wasn’t delicate. She didn’t need protection, but knowing he’d struck her… it made him feel sick.

“I won’t hit a woman. I don’t care if you don’t like it.”

She had him by the collar in an instant.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! We can’t afford to hold back! If a woman is trying to kill Nami, are you seriously going to play nice? Would you really rather let your crewmates die than accept that girls aren’t all weak flowers who need your protection?”

“It’s not fucking about you!” Sanji spat, and damn a part of him wanted to kick her, and it  _ hurt  _ because he would never be that person. “It’s about who I want to be! I am a gentleman, and-”

She shoved him back into a tree.

“A  _ gentleman  _ doesn’t spy on girls in the bath. And don’t think I don’t notice that your gentleman shtick is only for pretty D-cups. This isn’t about your morals, this is about your dick.”

Sanji closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. His heart was thudding in his chest.

“Look, I admit that I live for the beautiful flowers of the world, but it’s more than that. It’s not like I’d hit a girl just because she’s ugly.”

_ I don’t hit you, _ he resisted saying, because there was no point to pour fuel on the fire. Besides, it wasn’t really true. Looking at Zoro didn’t really feel like… looking at a girl. She didn’t have any of the qualities that made some women so amazing, but she could have been fine, if she wasn’t an unpleasant meathead who dressed like a theme park samurai.

“Why not though? Why won’t you?”

“Because it’s not right!”

“You didn’t care about hitting me when you thought I was a man! What’s changed? C’mon, hit me!”

She shoved him again, not hard enough to hurt too much, but clearly trying to escalate. And it was working. The Baratie wasn’t the kind of place that taught you to keep a cool head when some asshole got in your face and started shoving.

“No!”

“Show me I can trust you to protect us! Hell, show me you trust me! Hit me!”

“Fuck you! I won’t hit you!”

This shove was less gentle, and his head bounced off the tree a bit.

“Why not?”

His hands were shaking. 

“Because I can’t!” he yelled, voice cracking a bit. “Knowing I hit you makes me sick! Even if I wanted to- I just- I-”

He trailed off, realizing Zoro had stepped back.

“What?” Sanji hissed, still trembling. He needed a cigarette.

Zoro shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll leave it then.”

“After all that?”

“Look, if you won’t, that’s bullshit. I can handle myself. But if you can’t… well, I don’t like it, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Obviously you’ve got your own stuff to sort through.”

Sanji slumped down, anger fading into exhaustion as he lit a cigarette.

“I must seem pretty pathetic right now.”

“Yeah.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What? I’m not going to lie,” Zoro said. There was something a bit comforting about his bluntness. “We’ve all got our shit, but we’re on a crew now. We have to deal with it, because Luffy’s depending on us.”

“What? Even the great Zoro’s got a weak spot?”

“Course I do. I just don’t make a flashing billboard about it.”

“What is it?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you that.” She sat down next to him. “Gimme one of those cancer sticks.”

“You smoke.”

“Fuck no. I didn’t train this body to put that trash in it,” she said, but she took a long drag and she leaned her head back to watch the smoke spiral up into the canopy. Her face puckered in at the scar, pink with irritation, but she looked almost serene.

He still couldn’t say he liked her. He certainly didn’t understand her, but he got the feeling Luffy would be happy with their trainwreck of a conversation, and maybe that meant they’d done something right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I really like how this turned out. I wanted it to feel more about the characters than Gender Commentary and wanted to avoid "the author fixes Sanji and now his flaws are gone"
> 
> Things that will not be in the fic, but I thought were important: At some point, Sanji tries to convince Kuina to go into town Full Femme, and Kuina agrees (because they don't really care) on the condition Sanji goes in full femme as well, and Nami, Franky, and Robin have a great time playing fashion committee.  
> He doesn't unlock any Great Gender Discoveries, but it does mean that his issue on Kamabaka is less 'I CAN NEVER WEAR A DRESS I AM A MAN' and more 'THAT RUFFLY THING IS NOT FLATTERING TO MY FIGURE, DOES NOBODY HERE HAVE A NICE A-LINE DRESS IN MY SIZE? AND WHAT'S THAT LIPSTICK??? I AM CLEARLY A SPRING, NOT A FALL'


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loguetown Part I

“C’mon Zoro! We gotta go see the island!”

“You go on ahead. I want to try and cover my scar. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder while I buy swords.”

“We don’t even have bounties yet!” Nami reminded him.

“You kidding? I get recognized all the time. I did this even before I went pirate.”

It’s the first time the makeup has been part of it. It’s the first time he’s ever been thankful his father made him learn how to do makeup. Without a mom, he’d had to learn from a stuffy old village lady who lectured about ‘staying out of the sun’ and ‘not playing rough’ the whole time.

It hurt a bit where the powder ground into the scar. You could still see a bit. Makeup didn’t hide the swollen skin or stitches, but it would keep it from being too obvious. Ha. Maybe he could get two different bounties.

It was nice to have some time to himself, just enjoying the sunshine. He loved his crew, but they were a lot. Not just them either; the weight of protecting them. He’d been having trouble even sleeping, scared something would happen and he wouldn’t be there for them. A good, solid sword would help though.

He wore one of the octopus man’s blades and Wado, still broken in its sheath. Zoro knew you couldn’t just re-fuse a Katana, but it didn’t feel right to give up on the blade yet. The break was so clean, surely there had to be something that could be done for it. It didn’t belong glued together in some collection or buried. It was forged to sing.

Still, he needed a reliable blade, something he could trust to protect his crew. He studied the blades in the window but… none of them called to him. It was superstitious, but he couldn’t help it. The heart of a sword was something you could hear.

Instead he heard a commotion down the street. He glanced over. No red jacket, probably none of his business.

But the words rang a bit too familiar.

“Ha! Gonna fight us sweetheart!”

“You’re joking! What’s a girl like you going to do?”

Zoro looked closer. The woman had a good stance, and she drew with confidence. No need to get involved indeed. It was incredibly satisfying to watch her cut the men down, and hilarious to watch her trip after, glasses skidding down the street. He picked them up and held them out.

“Your glasses.”

“Ah! Thank you! I’m sorry!”

Zoro snorted. The girl could have been his twin. 

“No problem. You’re decent with a sword too.”

And the blade she carried was lovely, but it clearly wasn’t for sale.

“Are you a swordsman too?” the woman asked, then looked to Zoro’s hip in amazement. “Is that a meito? Oh… that’s the Wado Ichimonji, isn’t it? How did you find it? Can I see? I’ve never seen a great grade sword in person before.”

Zoro sighed.

“Bad news is you still haven’t. Wado’s broken.”

Zoro had expected the distress. This girl was clearly a sword fanatic if she could recognize Meito on sight. He hadn’t expected the rage.

“You  _ broke  _ it?!”

“I didn’t say that!” She was right, of course, but it was still unfair to assume it. And it wasn’t as if he’d been careless and swung it wrong.

“Give it to me!”

“What? No!” Zoro held it protectively. The Wado was his responsibility. Who just-- 

“It’s one of the most precious swords in the world and you let it get broken! You don’t deserve to carry it if you couldn’t take care of it.”

Oh that stung, though he didn’t let it show.

“How about this? We have a friendly duel. You beat me, I’ll give over the sword. No payment, no complaint.”

“And if I lose?” the woman asked suspiciously.

“I’m not after your swords. I came into town to buy one, and yours clearly like being with you. If you feel like you owe me, cover my lunch or tell me where the best local shop to find a sword is. We should get out of the street though.”

“Alright. I accept your challenge. Here, I know a good spot.”

\---------

A good spot, it turned out, was the middle of a Marine training yard. Perhaps it was a bit stupid to go anyways, but she didn’t seem like the type to use traps. Besides, he wanted to show her, Tashigi, apparently, that he wasn’t some novice who broke the Wado messing around.

They’d agreed to rules, and Zoro stepped into position. It had been a long time since he’d sparred another swordsman, and he hadn’t been in a formal duel since he left home, but the gestures were familiar.

Tashigi was clearly traditionally trained too. They had mirror perfect bows.

Honestly, a part of Zoro felt as if she was looking at a different future, one where Kuina and Zoro had never met. As a child, Kuina had been overconfident, lacking any true challengers, but insecure. No matter how strong her skills, she’d been constantly assured that her future was impossible, that her skill was a temporary illusion that would crack under the weight of her weakness.

Zoro had broken through both those barriers. He’d forced Kuina to lose, but also helped her see that the reality of her skill meant more than the predictions of fools.

Tashigi must have fought alone. He let her attack, getting a feel for her movement. Her form was good, but she hadn’t built the muscle to back it up against an opponent like Zoro, and, when her attacks failed, she was quick to let stress make her sloppy, not used to an opponent who could throw off her rhythm. He caught her blows and twisted and deflected, not enough to disarm her, just enough to trip her up.

Losing would hurt Tashigi’s pride, but it would be good for her. She had passion, so Zoro trusted the loss would push her. He was also glad he’d dressed like this today. Nobody could blame Tashigi’s defeat today on her gender, including Tashigi.

Zoro ended the duel the same way he’d ended formal duels since his teens. He waited for a good opening and then gave a hard tap to Tashigi’s wrist. When her grip spasmed, Zoro knocked her sword away.

Tashigi ducked her head, a bit red with embarrassment.

“You’re good. Where did you train?”

“Isshin Dojo in Shimotuski Village until I was seventeen, but I’ve been traveling for a few years now.”

“Have you ever thought about joining the Marines?” Tashigi asked hopefully.

Zoro laughed. He’d certainly taken that option off the table.

“Not many people I could take orders from.” Maybe just one. Still baffling that one turned out to be Luffy.

“Well, I said I’d get you lunch,” Tashigi said, still looking like the loss was physically painful. They headed to the restaurant.

“Drinks? I’m off duty.”

“You can get some, but knowing my captain, I’d better abstain,” Zoro said with a sigh.

“Your captain strict?”

“No, just stupid. Gotta be ready to deal with whatever he drags us into.”

“Wait, so you’re picky about captains, and you follow somebody like that? Why?”

Zoro shrugged.

“You’d have to meet him yourself. Not something I can describe.”

Once they were sat down with sandwiches, Tashigi ran a nervous hand through her hair.

“Could I look at the blade?” she asked.

Zoro shrugged and drew what was left of the Wado.

Tashigi reached out and touched it carefully, like somebody stroking the fur of a beautiful dead animal. She looked a bit tipsy too.

“This didn’t snap, did it. The line of the break is so precise. What happened to this?”

“Yoru happened.” Zoro would admit he was bragging a bit.

“You fought Hawkeye Mihawk? And lived?!” 

Tashigi’s eyes were practically sparkling and Zoro had to resist preening a bit.

“Sliced me pretty good too,” Zoro said, pulling aside some of his top to show where he hadn’t covered the scar, careful not to cross the line into indecent.

“What was it like, fighting him?”

“Exhilarating. He’s… I knew I was going to lose, but he’s on a totally different level. There’s so much more to learn.”

Tashigi laughed.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, Shimotsuki-chan.”

“It was a good fight. Ah, Shimotsuki isn’t my name though.”

Tashigi flushed.

“I’m sorry. With the Wado’s history… I just assumed.”

“It’s okay. Shimotsuki was my family name, but I go by Roronoa.”

“Haha. Like the pirate hunter.”

“Yeah.”

Tashigi slumped onto the table in tipsy frustration.

“Why do so many good swordsmen have to be assholes?”

“I mean, killing people is kind of an asshole thing,” Zoro said, “and it’s hard to be the best if you hold back.”

Tashigi plowed forward without acknowledging it.

“There’s Hawkeye, a pirate with one of the best blades in the world, and they make him a warlord! They just left Yoru in the hands of a pirate. Ughhh. Do you think Roronoa Zoro has one of the Meito?”

Zoro looked at the broken Wado on the table and sighed.

“No, he doesn’t.”

\----------

Losing so completely still hurt, but it was clear Roronoa had worked for it. She was fearless, built like wrought iron, and had deflected Kuri with the patience of a teacher. Still, she wasn’t going to sulk about it, even if she wanted to cry a little every time she saw the now-broken Wado at Roronoa’s hip. 

“Shop’s this way. My sword’s actually there for a polish. It’s definitely the best place in town. I’m sure they’ll have something you can use. And if he tries to cheat you, I’ll take care of it.”

Roronoa might have beat her in a fight, but no one could beat her at sword trivia.

She pushed through the door and hurried to the desk.

“Did you finish polishing my Shigure?”

“Ah, yes, Miss Tashigi. Here ya go.”

He flipped it over the counter and, in her hurry to grab it, Kuri overbalanced and had to be held upright by Roronoa grabbing her arm. It was so embarrassing! It didn’t just make her look bad when she fell, it made the Marines look bad.

“That on your hip,” the shopkeeper muttered, “is it-”

The shopkeeper reached out to touch the Wado’s hilt, and Roronoa shoved his hand away.

“Not for sale.”

For somebody who didn’t act too upset about the Wado being broken, she sure was protective of it. The shopkeep clearly wanted to haggle, but one look at Roronoa made him think better of it.

“Stingy. Well what are you here for? Cheap swords are in the barrel over there, fifty thousand beri each.”

Roronoa walked over to the barrels without taking the bait. 

When Kuri looked at swords, it was with a guide as she carefully ID’d each blade. Roronoa looked at the barrels as if waiting for one of the swords to jump into her hand. She trailed calloused fingers along the handles casually before taking one in hand.

It was gorgeous. In fact, it was familiar. Was it a meito? What was it doing rusting in a barrel? Kuri grabbed it and pulled out her handbook, flipping through to the correct entry.

“Ah, that’s it! Sandai Kitetsu! This is Sandai Kitetsu! It’s predecessor, Nidai Kitetsu, is one of the great grade swords, like Wado! And the Shodai Kitetsu was one of supreme grade swords, like Yoru. Sir, are you really selling it for fifty thousand beri?! It’s a graded sword!”

Roronoa had taken the blade, and the shopkeeper seemed to have trouble answering, but Kuri was awestruck. She’d gotten to meet two meito in one day! She felt so lucky.

“This is a legendary piece of swordcraft, Roronoa-chan. You should get it. This is an amazing offer! It should be worth twenty times that!”

“No! I won’t sell it!” the shopkeeper shouted. It was a bit disappointing. If he’d made a mistake, he should have stood by it, but Kuri tried to be understanding. He had a business to run.

“I suppose selling that sword for so little is... ”

“No, it’s not that! It’s-” the shopkeeper replied.

“It’s cursed,” Roronoa said plainly. She sounded almost admiring, running a finger along the dull edge of the blade.

“You knew?” the shopkeeper asked.

“No, I can feel it.”

“All the Kitetsu blades are beautiful weapons,” said the shopkeeper, “but they are all cursed. Every swordsman who wields a Kitetsu meets a tragic end, often under mysterious circumstances. These days, no swordsman in their right mind would use a Kitetsu. I wanted to sell it so the curse wouldn’t come back on me, but I certainly can’t just let a nice young woman head off to die.”

Kuri flushed. Some master of sword trivia! Why had none of the books mentioned something so vital? She needed to find some reading on the Kitetsu Curse as soon as possible. No, that wasn’t important right now. What was important was making the current situation right. 

She bowed.

“I-I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have encouraged Roronoa-chan to buy it! Or implied you did not know how to price your products! I should have kept out of it.”

“Don’t worry, Tashigi,” Roronoa said. She was smiling again. Kuri couldn’t help but wonder if Roronoa had any not-scary smiles. “I quite like this blade.”

The shopkeep protested (and his wife tried to intervene), but Roronoa’s eyes were still fixed on the blade.

“It’s alright. Will is stronger than destiny. Besides, you know you won’t get any blood rusting in the corner, right Kitetsu? So do you want to behave yourself and come with me to the Grand Line, or do you want to snap at me and get left in the corner?”

Roronoa reached up a hand and ran it down the blade,sharp side this time. She could almost see the blade leaping forward and splitting her hand down the center, but it didn’t happen. When Roronoa pulled her hand away, there was a perfect pink line down her hand, like Kitetsu had split every layer of skin but one.

Roronoa laughed.

“I like you,” she told the blade.

There was no talking her out of it. Kuri knew that look.

They finished up business, but Roronoa was clearly too busy admiring the sword to pay too much attention.

“So… how long are you in town for?”

Kuri didn’t want to say they were friends. She’d never really had any friends. Was Smoker her friend? That would be depressing, since he was her boss. And an asshole. He probably complained to her more than anyone else.

But Roronoa liked swords, and didn’t seem too annoyed by her yet. Maybe they could spar again, if her clumsiness wasn’t too annoying.

“I give it another hour or two before my captain gets us chased out of town.”

“Do you get chased out of town a lot?”

“Pretty much every town we’ve gone to since I joined his crew,” Roronoa said with a sigh, but it seemed fond. “At this point, I’m pretty sure Luffy does it on purpose.”

“Luffy as in…. Straw Hat Luffy.”

Roronoa, Zoro Roronoa, flinched, just a bit. She hadn’t meant to let that slip then, but she covered it fast.

“Yeah. He’s a good man. I’m proud to call him my captain.”

Kuri’s heart leapt, then plummeted. Of course. Of course this was too good to be true. Kuri met somebody who might be a friend, took her onto a Marine base, put a meito in her hands, and she was a pirate.

Honestly, she didn’t want to fight the woman. Not just because she’d lose, but because Roronoa had taken her dream seriously, hadn’t laughed or condescended.

“If you’re a pirate,” Kuri said, hand on Shigure, “then you understand I can’t just let you walk away.”

“You aren’t on duty right now.”

“Doing what’s right doesn’t have an off duty.”

Roronoa sighed and reached for Kitetsu. At least she was going to die by a meito. Kuri suppressed a hysterical laugh. A meito she picked out.

“If this is what you need to do, I can’t stop you.”

She lunged forward, but Roronoa was a streak of blood orange, something hit the back of her neck, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tashigi gets drunk solely because the idea of Zoro being called 'Shimotsuki-chan' was too adorable to miss.  
> I'm REALLY excited for the next chapter. If you like angst, it's got you.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loguetown Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gets into the character death so uh... don't read if you aren't up for that kind of content today.

So, he had a cursed sword, an unconscious Marine he had maybe accidentally betrayed, and no idea what to do next.

Thankfully, he wasn’t left to dither for long. Marines and spectators alike were running to the town square, yelling about a fight on the execution platform. 

He leapt into the building crowd, excited for a fight, but…

The fight was over. Luffy was pinned for execution and Zoro was too far away.

Early in their journey, Zoro had wondered if Luffy was fearless because he didn’t understand how much he was risking, or if it was something else. If there was any doubt left, this banished it. Luffy clearly knew there were things much scarier than dying.

Things like watching your captain be executed in front of you.

Zoro wasn’t paying attention to the crowd or the Marines. There was only his captain and the blades being raised above his head.

Not yet. Please not yet. Luffy was meant to be king. He couldn’t die before he ever saw the Grand Line.

Luffy smiled, bright and remorseless.

“Sorry. I’m dead.”

No. No. Zoro couldn’t make it through this again. He pushed through the crowd, vaulting shoulders when he got blocked. He had to be faster, fast enough to keep the world from ending.

He wasn’t fast enough to get to Luffy in time.

He was fast enough to be touching the tower when the lightning struck.

\-----------

“No luck here either,” Zoro said, kicking over a corpse.

The beach was littered with corpses, but Kuina couldn’t dredge much sympathy for the pirate crew. They’d attacked first, ready to kill two lone travelers for their paltry loot. Their mistake for not being able to tell ‘helpless targets’ from ‘two of the deadliest bounty hunters in the East Blue’.

Kuina sighed.

“Like fifty pirates and not a single bounty. They weren’t bad either. That took like an hour.”

“One landed a scratch on me,” Zoro grumbled, holding up his elbow to show a line of red. “I mean, only cuz there were like ten of them on me-”

“Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t gonna question your mastery,” Kuina said, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to go catch something to eat. Wanna come?”

“Nah. I’m gonna lay down for a bit.”

She wasn’t surprised. It had been a long fight and the cut was nasty, though nothing Zoro would mind. Zoro slept off just about everything. Kuina was pretty sure he’d slept off a broken ankle before.

The forest didn’t have much to hunt. It took her two hours to conclude there was no decent game, so she picked some fruit and made her way back to the beach, hoping Zoro hadn’t wandered off. He hadn’t moved, still laid back in the shade of a large rock.

“Zoro! I’ve got dinner. Light up the fire, okay? I want to sit down for a bit.”

When he didn’t respond, she walked over and gave him a kick. He needed to be more careful. What if they’d missed a pirate and some guy came over and knifed him while he slept?

She’d expected him to jump up cursing her like usual, but he fell to the side, limp. Kuina felt a cold tug at the back of her neck. The cut on his arm was swollen and blackened. Dark bruising trailed from it like a net under his skin.

Poison. He’d been poisoned and she’d left him to ‘sleep it off’.

She couldn’t panic. Zoro wasn’t going to die from a bit of poison. She’d seen him stabbed and beaten plenty of times. He was strong. She just needed to get him to a doctor and he’d be fine. Everything would be fine.There was a village just a day away, maybe faster if she pushed. He just needed to hold out a day.

There was no way she could sail the pirate’s ship alone so she pulled him into their little dinghy and rowed. 

She rowed until her arms started to burn, then shake, then finally go numb. Pain was nothing. The sun went down and came up and Kuina only paid attention when she needed to check to make sure she was going in the right direction.

She didn’t stop when she pulled up to the docks. She threw Zoro over her shoulder and staggered into town.

“I need a doctor! Please!”

She was taken into the local clinic and they took Zoro out of her arms, ushering her out of the room.

It felt wrong. He looked so soft and vulnerable. He would hate them seeing him like that. She wanted to be with him. After years of travel together and a lifetime of sparring, his body felt like an extension of her own. 

Koshiro had never been physically affectionate, and Kuina had inherited the trait. She didn’t like to be touched unless she was fighting, but traveling in a small rowboat had made Zoro the exception. She had fallen asleep with her head in his lap plenty of times. They could fight like one person, back to back.

She should be there, in the room with him, if only so he didn’t panic and attack the doctor when he woke up.

The doctor didn’t take long to walk back out.

“How is he doing?” Kuina asked, standing up. It was embarrassing how her voice shook.

“Miss, your friend… there was nothing we could do.”

“What do you mean? Zoro’s strong. He’ll be fine. Try again.”

The numbness that had been resting in her spine was overwhelming, creeping through her brain. Everything felt strange, like everything had been hollowed out and left behind a cicada skin imitation.

“I know this is hard to hear, but judging by his condition, he passed a while ago.”

“No,” she said. Her voice sounded so calm. “Zoro’s fine. Just give him the antidote.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Take the time you need and we can discuss the next steps.”

She didn’t understand. It was impossible. Zoro wouldn’t die from a little cut. They were going to fight their way to the top together. Without him… how did you describe Kuina without talking about Zoro? He was as much a part of her as her arms were. If he died, it would be in some amazing battle, not like this. He couldn’t just slip away in such a… stupid, preventable way. 

But she knew the truth. She’d known.

His body had been cold before she’d even gotten him into the rowboat.

\------------

Kuina went through the arrangements mechanically. Even if she hadn’t needed to be strong, she didn’t think she  _ could  _ feel anything. There was nothing inside her.

They hadn’t burned his body yet, but she’d already paid for the cremation and a nice urn, along with safe transport back to Shimotsuki Village. 

There was no way to soften to blow. Koshiro didn’t have a den den mushi, and there was no way she could see him right now. So she was sending him the corpse of a boy he’d raised, a boy who always seemed destined to die famous.

Even the note felt hollow.

_ Father, _

_ I am sorry for leaving without warning, and for failing to protect Zoro. I return his remains to our village. I hope you will give him a proper burial using the money I am sending. _

_ He was cut with a poisoned weapon during a fight and passed away two days ago. The doctor says he most likely passed peacefully in his sleep. His bandana and earrings are enclosed.  _

_ -Kuina _

She wanted to add a promise. There was nobody to take vengeance on. That would be nice. It would give her direction, but whoever had poisoned Zoro had died with their crew. ‘I’ll return home soon’. ‘I’ll become the greatest in his stead’. She wasn’t sure what she could say and mean. Every island had sunk into the water and she was drifting in nothing.

She went to watch them burn the body. They put him on a tray, pushing him towards the furnace, and she looked at her best friend. Just a body, she kept reminding herself. That wasn’t Zoro, just his body.

But he’d worked so hard. He’d spend his whole life training, pushing his body to be stronger. His scarless back, its cords of muscle, they were his pride. They were going to carry him to his destiny and they were pushing him into a fire and then it would be over. And it wasn’t because Zoro’s destiny was so much greater, because he would be greater.

“Don’t burn Zoro!”

She reached for him, trying to pull him back. She wouldn’t walk away, not again.

Somebody grabbed her, yanking her away from the fire, but she broke free from their grip easily.

“Zoro!”

People around her were yelling, but all she could think of was how to get Zoro out of the fire. She fought until they managed to sedate her.

The next day, she booked passage on on a fruit merchant’s ship, headed for the Grand Line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn this hurt to write.
> 
> It sucks extra for Kuina because her 'I should have died instead of Zoro. He's supposed to be the greatest, and I'm supposed to be dead' complex is... kinda true in terms of canon One Piece.  
> Don't you hate it when you're deep insecurities are meta-textually valid because of your canon fridging?


End file.
